


Sneakers [Attack on Titan/SEEUS AU]

by Rich_Ramblings



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attack on titan Alternate Universe, M/M, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rich_Ramblings/pseuds/Rich_Ramblings
Summary: Sometimes, ideas forged at two a.m. on finals week aren't the best ideas.





	Sneakers [Attack on Titan/SEEUS AU]

“Jean? Jean!” Macro whispered into his phone’s receiver, pausing outside of Jean’s resident hall and looking up at the tenth floor window he knew belonged to his boyfriend. The light stayed off. “C’mon, you picked up. I know you’re not sleeping. You can’t use that ‘my phone answered on its own and that’s why you heard me serenading the showerhead’ excuse again. I know you-”  
“Listen I didn’t make that up. I wish I had.” Came Jean’s groggy voice at last, “What’s so important that you needed to call me at…” Macro could only assume Jean was squinting around his dark room for a clock, and that the soft curse he heard was the boy’s sleep-fuzzed brain realizing his phone had a time display. Not that it mattered, given Jean’s answer, “Oh fucking dark hundred.”  
“Sorry dear, I was working overtime. I’m outside your dorm, actually. No no, don’t come down, just look out the window.” There was a pause, but then a soft rustling and louder swearing.  
“Is your roommate not there?” Marco asked, glancing behind him before sitting on one of the many boulders arranged around the structure in the courtyard between the three towers. While the April air was fairly warm, the stone was chilly and Marco hoped his conversation wouldn’t last too long.  
“Nah, he’s doing some nerd stuff at the library.”  
“Isn’t he a tutor there?”  
“Yeah. Nerd stuff. Apparently there’s an all night study session going on.” The blinds on Jean’s windows suddenly shot up and Jean waved as he managed to say around his yawn, “So he’s not gonna be here if you want to spend the night.”  
Marco waved back from the ground but shook his head. “I’ll pass for tonight. I want to get up early and do some studying.” Even from the ten floor distance Jean’s yawn was contagious and Marco paused to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think econ will be the death of me.”  
“I can give you a hand if you want.” Jean said, switching the hand he was holding his phone with and leaning against the window frame. Marco couldn’t see far enough to see but he could hear the smile in his voice. Leave it to his boyfriend to take any chance to show off his (unwanted) prowess in everything related to accounting. While his goal may have been an art major, no one could say he wasn’t doing a damn good job in his current field of study. “What’d you call about?”  
“Oh! Right, I’d almost forgotten.” Marco cleared his throat and tried to sound stern as he went on, “When I got back from shift the supervisors informed me an...Anonymous artist had designed a new poster for us and dropped off a bunch of copies while I was out.” Marco stood as he fished the folded sheet of paper from his back pocket and shook the creases out as he held it up. The flyer advertising the campus escort service (Marco really wished someone had thought about that description a little more before emblazoning it on their advertisements) featured cartoon drawing of a brunette and befreckled SEEUS employee clad in the newest version of their uniforms and, despite the season, a distinctive knit hat and heavy mittens. “Jean...You’re the only person I know who cares enough about SEEUS to spend his printing money on custom posters with the text in Comic Sans. Except for maybe Eren. But actually I don’t think he has printing money left after the entire Bee Movie script.”  
Jean chuckled and the quiet, warm sound was enough to make Marco blush and shut up immediately. “What’s the big deal?” He asked softly.  
“Jean it’s clearly me on the poster. Wearing your hat and mittens.” He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “People will talk.”  
“No one’s gonna even notice. Besides, what kind of graphic designer would I be if I didn’t put the best looking employee on there?”  
“Jean Kirstein you are a bad man.” Marco scolded jokingly, carefully folding the poster back up and slipping it back into his back pocket. “I’m going to start walking back to my dorm.” He blew a kiss up at the tenth floor and caught the one Jean blew back. “Stay on the phone and keep me company?”  
“You betcha.” Jean said, stifling another yawn and settling down into the windowsill as Marco turned and started heading across campus to the Honors dorms.  
“You’re the best.”  
“I know babe. How did shift go?”  
“I’m seriously considering dropping out and running off to work at a dog shelter or something. Econ is...Something else. I spent most of shift looking over my flashcards for it in between Eren getting really excited about the apartment next year.”  
“You sure everything's gonna be okay with him and Armin being roommates? He seems kinda...A lot.”  
“I’m not sure anyone has ever more concisely summed up Eren as a person.” Marco took the fork in the sidewalk heading to his dorm and away from the Student Center. The campus was spooky after dark, even with the streetlights. Marco shivered in the warm night air and was thankful as always for his very patient boyfriend who was (almost) always willing to answer his calls at ungodly hours of the morning. “But don’t worry. Him and Armin are really good friends. I’m more worried about you. How are you going to be able to keep your hands off me, living together and all?” He heard Jean stammer into the phone for a few seconds before he laughed. “I’m kidding, darling. But I wonder how our parents are going to feel about it...I haven’t told my parents about moving in with my boyfriend yet.” The silence over the phone lined up perfectly with Marco walking past the Lakehouse and the light flickering out, as it often did. Marco yelped a little and walked a bit faster. “Jean? You there?”  
“Yeah I’m...Yeah I’m here.” Jean’s tone told Marco he wanted to say something else, so he waited. “I...Haven’t exactly told my parents that...I’m dating you.” Marco paused for a second as he passed the University Park Stairs, then smiled a little as he started walking again.  
“It can be kind of weird telling your parents you’re dating someone, right? In college too becuase you’re wondering when you should mention it and if they’re gonna ask to meet the guy and stuff like-”  
“You don’t get it, Marco,” Jean interrupted, heaving a sigh. His tone made Marco tense up. By this time he was passing the small gazebo, in sight at last of his dorm. It wasn’t a particularly far walk but it felt like forever in the dark, alone after shift. “I haven’t even...Come out to them.” Marco inhaled sharply through his nose. Why had Jean never told him that?  
“Well...I mean, now would be a good time, right? Let them know and have them meet me so they know me and uh...Yeah it’ll be good. I’d love to meet them.” Marco did his best to sound encouraging. And honestly he was rather excited to meet the man and woman who raised Jean.  
“You don’t get it.” Jean repeated, a little less warmly than before, “I can’t come out to them. I won’t. I’m not planning to. Ever, really.” It broke Marco’s heart to hear Jean’s voice cracking over the phone, and he stopped at the bottom of the gentle slope he’d just walked down, turning around with half a mind to hike his ass back to Hoyt and take Jean up on the sleepover offer.  
“Oh. Jean, honey, it’s not that hard, I promise. You just need to...Well you just need to sit them down and have a conversation with them and be ready to answer their questions. With mine they were...Honestly a little confused because I’d never dated anyone or really talked about having a crush or anything. But it was all fine! And they’re so looking forward to meeting y-”  
“Marco.” Jean must have been trying to a record number of times interrupting Marco. “I. Can’t. Come. Out. To. Them.” The tone in Jean’s voice sent a chill down Marco’s spine that couldn't be competed with by the feeling of being alone on campus at night. “Ever. I can’t even tell them I want to switch my major. I don’t talk about my personal views at home. They were devastated when I told them I was going to a college as liberal as this one.” He sighed again, this time more wearily than angrily. “I can’t...Disappoint them. I’ve never been able to stand up to them. I’m sorry I...I can’t Marco. We’re not going to tell them.” Marco frowned, feeling a bubble of anger rise in his chest and hating himself for it. He started walking toward Downing again, strides longer and faster than before.  
“We’re totally openly dating, Jean, how is it any different?”  
“Listen, Marco, you grew up in a very different house than I did. I’m not sure my parents would even know what ‘pansexual’ means. What would I even say? ‘Hey mom and dad guess what? I like girls, but I also like guys and honestly gender doesn’t really to me when I’m looking for a romantic partner.’?”  
“Well...Yeah, actually. That’s what I did, at least. Minus...You know, girls and gender not mattering to me. Seriously, it’s not that hard. You just need to psyche yourself up for it.” Marco smiled as he pulled his ID card out of his pocket and swiped into his dorm. “Listen, you should meet my parents and talk to them about it. I’m sure they’d be able to give you some pointers.” Smilingly, Marco showed his ID to the Nightwatch student and headed up the stairs to his room. “Everything will be just fine. I mean, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”  
“Disownment.” Jean said in a flat voice and Marco halted on the stairs.  
“Wait...What?”  
“I need to go. Talk to you t-...Later. Love you, good night.” Jean hung up and Marco was left staring wide eyed at the silent phone in his hand. The student swallowed hard, then resumed his climb up the stairs, mind reeling.  
_He’s...He’s overreacting. I mean, his parents are pretty strict but they'd never...They’d never just kick him out. Are there still parents that do that? No...No one could be that awful._ Marco sighed and stepped out on the landing for his floor, slowly walking to his room and absently wondering if Bertholt was home. _Why is he being such a baby about it? It’s not that-_ A stab of fear mixed with anger shot through Marco, and he felt his face fall. “He’s...Embarrassed by me.” The boy mumbled, pulling out his key and unlocking his door. The light to both the common room and his bedroom were off, and he suddenly remembered that his roommate was back home dropping off some things from his dorm before moveout. Marco closed the door behind him and set his phone on his desk, staring at it for a moment as though expecting Jean to call back and apologize. “He doesn’t want to tell his parents because it’s me. Oh...golly gee willikers why? Am I really that awful?” He unzipped his jacket and lethargically changed into his pajamas. As he did, he thought. And he realized. And then he decided.  
_If he’s not going to do it, I’ll do it for him._ He frowned and nodded resolutely, picking up his phone to text Jean. _It’s for his own good. Once they meet me they’ll realize and...And things will be better._ He was starting to have that creeping, gross feeling that things were going to be awkward with Jean the next day. He hated it. He hated it and he knew he’d have to go out of his way to make it better.  
_Compose text:_  
_Hey Jean, I’m sorry for getting short with you over the phone. When do you work tomorrow? I can drop in a bring you that almond croissant you like and maybe a latte too if you’re a good boy. I have a lot of Flex to spend._  
_And also when are your parents coming? You said they’d be coming this weekend to take some of your stuff back, right? Maybe not...But if they are I want to meet them, as your future roommate if not your boyfriend._  
_Sleep well dear and remember to study!_  
Of course Marco was too on edge to fall asleep, but he pretended he was when Jean’s reply came a few minutes later.  
_Re:_  
_its fine i just get a little nervous you kno? my parents r strict and im taking their money haha_  
_i start work @ 9 and ive been a very good boy_  
_their coming 2morrow at 3 just be careful to not act too...gay?_  
_ily night_  
Marco squinted at his phone, heart falling even further. _He thinks I act too gay and he’s embarrassed._  
The heavy stone of doubt and anger had settled into his stomach, but it was almost five when Marco finally decided to forgo sleep all together and start studying and planning.  
_Sorry, Jean, you’ll thank me later._  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Oh no…” Armin gasped as Marco swung open the door of his room and strode through the common room to the bathroom. Marco paused in the door before grabbing his toothbrush.  
“‘Oh no’ what? And did you even go to sleep? You’re never up this early after that shift.” Marco cocked an eyebrow and turned back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Armin frowned, then snapped his laptop shut and stood, nervously shifting his weight between his feet.  
“‘Oh no’ you look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep. I didn’t either, orgo’s going to kill me. And ‘oh no’ you only wear that bracelet and t-shirt when you’re out to fight some homophobic jerk at football games. And I mean fight in the most passive and least physical way possible.” Marco looked down at the rainbow bracelet he’d gotten from the LGBT Resource Center on campus and then at the interlocking Mars symbols emblazoned on his t-shirt. “You also never walk that confidently unless you’re extremely sleep deprived or on some ill advised personal mission. Or both. Probably both in this case.” Armin ran his hand through his hair, looking no worse for wear after pulling an all nighter studying organic chemistry.  
“Remind me what your major is.” Marco mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste foam.  
“Pre-med.”  
“Why aren’t you studying to be a detective?’  
“I don’t like guns.”  
“We work for the police.”  
“We’re like the police lite. Look, I don’t know what’s going on but does it have anything to do with the...Almost illegible text I got from Jean this morning? He wanted to know if you seemed mad.” Marco caught his breath and looked at Armin, then turned around to spit into the sink and wash out his mouth. His fingers tapped out a fast pattern on the bathroom sink before he put his toothbrush back and took a deep breath.  
“He doesn’t want to introduce me to his parents as his boyfriend because he thinks I’m embarrassing. I’m not mad...Well, I’m a little mad but nothing serious. I just figured I’d do it myself, rip off the Band-Aid, you know?” Armin stared at Marco wide eyed as he picked up a crumpled hoodie, Jean’s, from the floor and pulled it on over his tshirt, grabbed his wallet, phone, and backpack and headed to the door. The blonde opened his mouth to speak but Marco held up a finger for silence. “Listen, I know coming out can be hard but I’ve been through it so I can help him.” He turned the doorknob and walked out but paused when Armin grabbed his shoulder.  
“Has it occurred to you that it could be really dangerous for you to out him to his parents? And that that is the reason he doesn’t want to come out?” The panic evident in Armin’s now wide awake eyes was startling, and Marco suddenly wondered about his suitemate’s home life. He never really mentioned what his parents except in passing, and usually about how he was avoiding going home for another break. Nevertheless, Marco sighed and shook his head, pulling away from Armin. Armin caught the door and held it open with his free hand.  
“It’s not that. I know that’s not it. I have a feeling about this.” The teen glanced at his watch, then gave a tight smile. “I gotta go. My boy will be needing his croissant soon.” With that, he set off down the hallway, but he didn’t hear the door shut behind him until he was almost to the stairs.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Even though Jean had been a distinctly not good boy (partly for ticking Marco off but partly for not keeping his Campus Life desk clean), Marco folded and got him the latte as well, then spent the remainder of Jean’s shift perched on the edge of his desk, flipping through his flashcards and chugging black coffee to fend off the growing effects of the all nighter. Jean didn’t seem mad or even pissy, so Marco was confident his efforts to stave off the uneasiness that settled between them after a fight had been effective.  
“What are your parents like?” Marco asked as he followed Jean down the central stairs of the Student Centre at the end of his shift, “I mean aside from strict?”  
“Super smart.” Said Jean with a little bit of a smile, “And kinda sarcastic. Both of them are. I guess that’s why they get along.” Jean thought for another moment, then went on, “Dad is kinda overbearing but I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to make the same mistakes he did when he was a kid. It’s like I’m his second chance at making the right choice. And I guess mom’s reason for being a helicopter mom is just because she’s worried.” Jean smiled a little sadly and shrugged, opening the door for Marco and then following him out into the lobby in front of Starbucks, then towards the doors that let out toward Hoyt. Marco smiled and reached for Jean’s hand, but his boyfriend pulled it away. “S-sorry they might be here already.” Jean said after clearing his throat, “They’re very...Punctual.”  
“Oh. Right. And you wouldn’t want them to know you’re dating me.” Marco said cooly, plastering on a smile. Jean evidently missed the tone in his voice and nodded.  
“Yeah. That’d be bad. Oh! There they are, actually.” Jean waved as a car pulled wildly into the student center parking lot, screeching to a halt in an empty space. He took a deep breath, grinned at Marco, then jogged off to go meet them. Following behind more slowly, Marco pushed the sleeves of his hoodie, or rather Jean’s hoodie, up to his elbows, putting the rainbow bracelet on his wrist into view.  
_Wouldn’t want to go full homo right off that bat_ , he thought to himself, _They might just die. And Jean would probably shit himself._  
By the time he joined up with the Kirstein family, the three were engaged in a hot debate over where to park the car. It didn’t seem as though any sort of welcoming hug had occurred, though Marco knew they hadn’t seen each other since February.  
“I saw a sign back there that said Hoyt Lot. Isn’t that where you live? Hoyt?” The man was gesturing back the way they came, the expression on his face halfway between bewilderment and rage. It was an interesting combination. Despite that, Marco could tell that in his youth the man had had the same haughtily handsome features as Jean. Even not given the familial bond, Marco probably could have picked him out of a crowd as Jean’s father.  
“Yeah but Hoyt Lot is across the street from my dorm. It’s by the Village, so I don’t th-”  
“Why on Earth would they put it there, Jean?” The woman to Jean’s left said with an almost laugh. The look in her eyes pierced through Marco in the single moment she looked at him before turning her attention back to her son. “Well then, where do you think we should park? Is the Village parking lot outside of Hoyt?” The biting tone in her voice made Marco flinch, and he wondered how Jean got by with just calling it sarcasm. He felt personally attacked.  
“Listen, I’ll show you where to park just- Calm down a second. You wanna take a walk around campus? Oh! Shoot what am I thin- This is Marco, my roommate for next semester.” Jean took a step to the side and almost comically held out his hands as though presenting Marco to his parents. The brunette gave a small smile and then held out his hand to Mr. and Mrs. Kirstein.  
“Pleasure to meet you. Jean’s talked about you a lot! Great to put faces to names.” The words came out easily, practised as they’d been in the mirror at ungodly hours of that morning, as he held out his rainbowed hand for a shake. Either Jean’s father didn’t notice the Pride bracelet or his didn’t know what it meant, because he smiled and gave an almost crushingly strong handshake. Marco glanced at Jean in time to see his horrified expression as his eyes settled on the rainbow bracelet, then shot up to meet Marco’s eyes, then darted down to settle with recognition on his own hoodie. Marco met Jean’s silent screaming with a pleasant, mock quizzical look. “What’s the matter, Jean?” Jean grimaced and shook his head, shooting Marco a look that said there’d be a long conversation later. Marco looked forward to it. He turned to shake hands with Mrs. Kirstein but found her examining him like a specimen under a scope. Her small eyes were set on his hoodie, then flicked up to Marco’s eyes. He shivered.  
“Jean dear…” The woman addressed her son but didn’t break her eye contact with Marco, “Why is this boy wearing your sweatshirt?” Marco forced himself not to smile as he got exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Instead, he acted surprised and glanced down the the hoodie himself.  
“Oh! I guess it is Jean’s...I must have grabbed the wrong one this morning while getting dres-”  
“Dressed! At the gym! Marco you...You idiot.” Marco could tell that Jean was trying hard to keep panic out of his voice as he smacked Marco on the shoulder way harder than necessary. The brunette shot a hurt look at his boyfriend and recieved a meaningful grimace. “I mean they’re both the same colour so I guess uh...Yeah you must have just grabbed the wrong one.”  
“The gym? This morning?” The skepticism in Jean’s mother’s voice was obvious, “I thought you were working this morn-”  
“Before that! Rise and grind! Love me some uh...Squats.” Jean’s words tumbled out quickly and his parents, and Marco, looked at him oddly. After a second his father laughed and slapped his son on the shoulder.  
“Getting after it, aren’t you, son?” He gave a smug smile, “Trying for that sports scholarship?”  
“No dad I’m-” Jean sighed and looked away uncomfortably, “We can’t all be star college swimmers. I was just...You know…”  
“Just ignore him,” Jean’s mother said, tugging her judgemental eyes away from Marco to fix their squinted gaze on her son, “The only things that matter are school and work. Don’t let anything…” The woman cast a critical glance at Marco, “Distract you. Nothing less than the best, right?” She let out a humourless laugh before continuing, “Now show us where to park and we’ll head up to your room. Maybe we’ll take a tour later.”  
“Sure. Right. Yeah l-let’s go…” Jean glanced at Marco, a complicated set of emotions crossing his face. “Hey um...Why don’t you head off a-and-”  
“Want my help carrying things?” Marco piped up, pushing his hands into the pockets of the hoodie and smiling at Mr. Kirstein. He seemed more intimidating, but also more manageable, than Jean’s mother. Marco could see why Jean didn’t want to come out to them about dating him, but he knew it was the best thing to do. Embarrassed by Marco or not, it wasn’t fair to him to have to hide that they were dating.  
Mr. Kirstein frowned for a second, then shrugged and smiled. “Why not. Shouldn't be any trouble for someone who hits the gym in the mornings, right?” Now it was Marco’s turn to get punched by the man, who was much stronger than his lean frame would suggest.  
_Star college swimmer_. Nodding, Marco smiled. “Yep! Not a problem.” Jean let out a long and not particularly subtle sigh, and turned to trudge toward Hoyt. Marco jogged to catch up and pull even with him, matching his strides as Jean’s parents followed behind. After glancing at Jean to see he was fuming, and making sure Mr. and Mrs. Kirstein could see, he casually reached out to grab Jean’s hand, only to have Jean flinch away. Marco sucked in a breath, realizing he’d made Jean much more mad than he’d imagined possible. All he wanted to do was slowly hint at their relationship so that it wouldn’t come as a huge shock to Jean’s parents when he told them the two of them were dating. “Hey uh...What’s up?” he said under his breath to Jean, turning his head back to look down at his sneakers.  
“What’s up?” Jean hissed back, “How about the fact that you’re being an idiot? Knock it off. We talked about this.” Huffing, Jean lengthened his strides and pulled away from Marco to reach the door of his dorm first the swipe the door unlocked.  
_We’ll get there_. Marco vowed, directing a smile at Jean and then the RA on duty as he walked into Hoyt and to the elevator. He punched in the tenth floor as the Kirsteins joined him. “Jean lives way up on the tenth floor,” he said unnecessarily as the elevator blipped its way to the top floor of the residence hall, “It’s super hot during the day but gets really cold at night. Oh hey, is your roommate in or can I spend the ni-”  
“He went home for the weekend,” Jean interceded, “Which is good because I _really need my space_ during finals week.” Marco was scared to make eye contact now but he knew Jean was staring him intently in the back of the head. For the first time since he’d had the idea, he was starting to question his resolve. Jean seemed really...Not happy.  
_No stop. This is the right thing to do. He just needs the nudge._ Steeling his resolve just as the elevator doors opened, the young man strode out and toward Jean’s room.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Son, I think it’s time you pared down your belongings,” Mr, Kirstein said, leaning against the wall of Jean’s dorm and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, “What were those last boxes full of? Bricks?”  
“Paper.” Jean grunted as he rose out of a deep knee bend, hefting the last box and leaning back to balance it out. Marco reached out a hand to help but was dissuaded by Jean’s scowl. He hadn’t really spoken to Marco aside from monosyllabic questions and replies. It was almost enough to put the boy off his mission, but not quite. To that effect, he casually fanned his face, then pulled off his hoodie, revealing the aggressively gay t-shirt he wore beneath. Jean saw it, he knew he saw it from the strangled gasp he heard, but he seemed to be determined to not say anything. Marco hummed quietly as he busied himself with tying the hoodie around his waist.  
“Marco, dear, have you seen Jean’s desk lamp?” Mrs. Kirstein asked as she emerged from the bathroom carrying a pile of hand towels.  
“I think we already packed it,” Marco replied, moving to help her with the towels. She gratefully handed some over, then her eyes fell to the interlocked Mars symbols on his shirt. She made no attempt to hide the way her face screwed up like she’d smelled something nastier than the shower drain. She pulled the towels back, snapping her gaze away and walking to the door.  
“I can manage by myself, thank you.” She said curtly, turning and striding out the door to the elevator. Marco’s heart leapt into his throat. Given the way they’d acted, he’d definitely seen what Jean meant by his parents being strict but that was...That was disgust. That was hatred, and it was hot and fresh and it was unmistakable.  
_But I’m not their son_. He thought to himself, pretending to not have noticed Mrs. Kirstein’s reaction, pretending that the aversion the woman clearly had to him didn’t faze him. _That’s why he needs to tell them. Parents can’t hate their children for not being like them. It’ll help them change their minds._  
Marco could tell when Jean’s father recognized his t-shirt because the man’s voice trailed off from his conversation with Jean. A moment later he man followed his wife out, leaving a fuming Jean with a slightly dejected Marco. If he hadn’t been so nervous and admittedly hurt, Marco would have thought it funny that they were so scared of them that they had to run away.  
“The fuck are you doing?” Jean hissed. He’d never really shouted at his boyfriend, but the effort to keep that streak up was showing in his reddened face and heaving shoulders.  
“Something you don’t have the guts to do.” Marco replied quietly, looking at Jean with the closest approximation to steely resolve as he could manage, “I’ve already come out to my parents, coming out to yours, which I haven’t done, by the way, would be a cinch.”  
“That’s not what you’re doing.” Jean said, taking a step closer to Marco and raising his hands as if to grab his shoulders and shake him, then clenching his fists, then dropping them again. “I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it.” He waved his arm toward the door, indicating his parents. “They aren’t perfect, alright? I know that. I know there’s a big part of me that they’d hate if they knew about it, but I love them, okay? And I want them in my life. That’s why I can’t come out to them.” He took a deep breath. “Do you understand that? Whatever the fuck you’re doing, whatever you think you’re trying to prove, you cannot jeopardize that.”  
Throughout Jean’s outburst, Marcos eyes had grown larger and larger, and his ability to look Jean in the eye had grown smaller and smaller. Still, he swallowed hard, looked down, then back up. “You love them even though they won’t love you if you’re honest with them?” Jean nodded. “What kind of messed up relationship is that?” Marco asked coolly, turning his back on Jean to pick up a box of shoes. It was heavy; it had every pair Jean owned except the pair he was wearing. He almost asked for help lifting it, then gritted his teeth and did it alone. He hefted the box and walked toward the door. He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “They’re your parents. They’ll still love you if you’re not straight. And they’ll love you no matter who you’re dating, even if they’re embarrassing.” He smiled sweetly as he headed to the elevator. “You’ll see.”  
He half expected Jean to come after him and stop him in the hallway, but he made it all the way to the elevator and down to the ground floor without interruption. He walked to the Kirsteins’ car, fingers starting to lose their grip on the box of shoes, to find Jean’s parents in heated debate, voices lowered. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out what they were upset about. For a moment, Marco wished Jean had tried to stop him, had come down with him so he didn’t have to face those judgmental looks alone. He wordlessly approached and set the box of shoes on the back bumper as Jean’s parents moved aside for him to come through, voices dropping off in the way that confirmed they’d been speaking about the boy before he interrupted. Marco could feel their stares burning into him as he lifted the box into the trunk of the car. Jean had said he wanted to avoid the rush of move out at the end of finals, so he was moving most of his stuff now. Seeing how much was already packed, Marco wondered how many changes of clothes he still had with him.  
After shifting the box around and making a show of wiping his hands off on the thighs of his jeans, Marco turned to face the parents, smile back in place. “That’s all, I think!” He said cheerily, to be met with silence. “Do uh...Do you...Would you two like to um...Go on a tour of campus?” Mr. and Mrs. Kirstein glanced at each other, then Mr. Kirstein took a step toward Marco, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Now listen here, kid, in our home we-”  
“Dad!” Marco had never been more in love with Jean’s voice as he was in that moment. Whatever the man had been about to say, he was sure it would’ve meant the end of his access to the two, and possibly Jean as well. “Where’d you put my red box with the square on it?” Distracted, evidently, by his dadly duties, Mr. Kirstein turned to help Jean. Mrs. Kirstein, in turn, took another scrutinizing look at Marco, then turned to help as well, leaving Marco to wonder how, exactly, the Kirstein’s home life affected their ability to tour the campus of Eastern Michigan University.  
After a few minutes of searching for a box that may very well have been fictional, Jean announced that he’d given up on finding it, and asked his parents if they’d like to take a tour of campus with him and Marco. He made direct eye contact with his boyfriend as he named him in as part of the tour, and Marco nodded back, wondering how much he’d heard of the conversation he interrupted.  
They started with a brief description of the Towers that consisted mostly of Jean being salty about the people who gathered in the courtyard very night with the sole intent, it seemed, to scream loudly at odd hours of the night. From there it was the cut and dry descriptions of the Student Center, library, science complex, and several of the other major buildings around campus. Marco noted with a certain level of pride that Jean was adding in some of the odd tidbits he’d learned during his time at SEEUS, and had passed along to Jean. He didn’t say anything about it, though, opting to follow in silence and laughing at the appropriate times.  
After seeing every major building on campus, including the natatorium, which Mr. Kirstein’s father insisted on seeing, though it requred some fenangling with Marco’s campus security privileges and some intimidating on the part of Jean’s father, they slowly made their way back toward the Kirstein’s car. Jean directed them toward University Park, and pointed over the bridge down at the fish. Marco followed slowly, running has hand along the railing, and wondering if he really wanted to go through with this. It was the most romantic spot on campus (except for the doorway arch leading to Hoyt, but that hardly held the same appeal as the beautiful set of bridges over the central pond), and perfect for what he wanted to do. Marco nodded and sped up, catching up with Jean just as he go to the main platform of the bridge. His boyfriend was just stopping and turning around to say something to his parents when Marco determinedly stepped toward him, wrapping him in a hug and pressing his face to Jean’s chest.  
“It’s the best way, Jean.” Marco said quietly in response to Jean’s flabbergasted exclamation that sounded like adamant refusal. He pulled away, holding Jean at arm’s length, and smiled at him, then closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss him, in full view of his parents. _It’s called shock therapy_. He thought offhandedly. Suddenly, he felt a sinking in his stomach that led him to believe he was falling. He felt Jean step around him, felt the wooden planks of the bridge lose contact with his feet, and opened his eyes just before he fell back first into the chilly, smelly, and aggressively blue water of the University Pond. It took a second to get his wits about him again, but when he did he pushed himself off of the mucky bottom and sat up, spluttering. The water wasn’t deep, but that was shocking. Jean was coughing up a fair bit of water himself, and he looked _mad_.  
_I went way too far_. Marco realized with horror as he looked at the fuming boy, reaching out a hand, then pulling it back in fear. There was stunned silence all around, then Jean turned to Marco, struggling to stand up in the sticky mud. He breathed heavily, eyes scanning Marco’s face, then reached down and hauled him to his feet as well.  
“You are an idiot!” He shouted, shaking Marco so he almost lost his balance just after getting to his feet, “You are an idiot and you’re reckless in ways no one else is! What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing? Why are you doing it? I’m- I can’t- We-” His words were dropping off, truncated and gasping, and Marco noticed he had tears in his eyes. It was the end, for sure this time. He’d done something that couldn’t be undone, betrayed the deepest of trust. Hands shaking, Marco grabbed Jean’s wrists, looking at him pleadingly.  
“J-Jean I’m...I’m so sorry I just...I thought this was the best way...Y-you don’t want to tell them we’re dating b-because I’m embarrassing, right? W-well I figured if I just...Showed them the most embarassing I am th-then...It wouldn’t be a problem and we-”  
“I didn’t want to tell them because they’re homophobic bigots.” Jean ground out between his teeth, shaking off Marco’s hands and turning to face his parents, still wordless watching from the bridge. “Listen up, mom and dad! I’m panseuxal, okay? There, it’s out in the open. And I’m dating Marco.” It was possibly the most aggressively Maroc had ever heard someone come out, but it seemed oddly fitting for Jean.  
Mr. Kirsten scoffed, brow furrowing with a combination of disgust and confusion. “Does that mean you-”  
“It means someone’s gender doesn’t affect my ability to love them, dad. Maybe...Maybe other people will call it something else…” Jean glanced at his boyfriend, set his jaw, and looked back at his parents, “...But that’s what I’m gonna call it. It’s just a label. I’m still me! I’m still...I’m still your son.” By the end of his declaration, the anger in Jean’s voice had faded to something more fragile.  
_Desperation_. Marco realized, heart squeezing painfully, _And it’s my fault._ His hand found Jean’s and squeezed it tight. He was surprised when Jean squeezed his hand back instead of tearing it away. After a second, Jean even leaned over to kiss his cheek.  
“I’m still mad.” He said shortly, not smiling. He tugged Marco’s hand as he trudged his way back to the bridge. He paused to look up at his parents, evidently found nothing of hope in their eyes, and clambered out of the water, turning back to help Marco up. The two students looked wordlessly at Mr. and Mrs. Kirstein, then Jean turned and pulled Marco after him, heading back to the dorm.  
“I hope you’ll rethink this by the end of the semester.” Came Jean’s mother’s voice at last. Jean halted, shuddering as though a bolt of electricity had shot down his back. He did an admirable job of pretending the jibe didn’t bother him, but Marco could hear the shaking in his voice as he replied. Despite the chill of being suddenly wet in the mild air, it didn’t sound like shivering.  
“I haven’t rethought this in nineteen years, mom. I doubt one week will make a difference.”  
“Then I hope you’re ready to move out,” came his mother’s reply, “We’ll call in a week.” Neither Marco nor Jean looked back, but the woman’s steps, followed by her husband’s reverberated through the wooden bridge. Jean didn’t move to take a step forward, and Marco didn’t rush him. He felt like he was walking on thin ice, and one wrong move would send him plunging into a dark abyss colder than the scummy pond water.  
After a long time, or maybe it had only been seconds, it was hard to tell, Jean shook off Marco’s hand. “I need some time alone.” He monotoned, and began to walk off, steps squelching in his soaked sneakers. “My shoes are ruined.” Marco just barely heard him say as he walked away. Marco chewed his lip nervously, then thought better of it when he tasted the foul water he was soaked in. Soaked, and freezing.  
The boy hugged himself tightly as he made his way back to his dorm, sure he had messed up too much this time, sure that it was over with Jean.  
Sure that unless he did something, did something fast, did something carefully, he had no chance.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“It’s so early I’m gonna puke.” Marco whined, trailing behind Armin as they made their way across campus, the sun just starting to rise and chase away the blue shadows that collected around the buildings. The week long string of all nighters and poor sleeping had left Marco feeling like a hollow shell. A hollow shell driven only by his motivation to pass all of his exams and make up with his boyfriend.  
“You asked for this.” Armin said without much emotion. Marco would always be amazed by how unaffected his roommate was by things like circadian rhythms and shifts ending at three in the morning. “Seven isn’t that early, also.”  
“It is when I usually don’t wake up in time for breakfast at the Commons.”  
“Your loss. The hashbrowns are good.” A few moments passed, during which the two made their way up the hill and around the science complex, approaching the campus’s greenhouse. Marco’s sleep deprived mind took a moment to remind him that it was the only squirrel-proof building on campus. His mind then decided to let him know that he didn’t know a damn thing about economics, and that the exam was in three hours. He was drawn out of his sudden spiral of panic by Armin’s voice. “Remind me again why I’m about to use my EAS access to get you into the greenhouse?”  
“I need flowers for Jean.” Marco said simply, covering his mouth as he yawned.  
“Oh. Jean. Right.” Armin stopped and looked at Marco as he pulled out his key card. He eyed the shoe box tucked under his arm. “Those don’t look like your style.”  
“They’re...Also for Jean. His only pair got messed up when he...When we fell into the lake.” Marco hadn’t told Armin the whole story. Armin was a quiet guy, but when he was right, and when he knew he was in the right, he wouldn’t let go of some things. And Marco didn’t need to be reminded that he’d been terribly wrong.  
“Guy’s only got one pair of sneakers, huh. Interesting.” Armin frowned a little and turned to open the greenhouse. “Be quick, and don’t take anything that looks like a new breed of tulip. Or someone’s final project.”  
“Got it.” Marco quietly slipped into the dark greenhouse, not daring to flick on a light. He waited while his eyes adjusted, then took the scissors out of his pocket that he’d had the foresight to bring and went around clipping off some of the lower flowers, the ones that, he assumed, would be pruned anyhow. _I hope._ A few minutes later, he rejoined Armin at the door to the greenhouse. “Thanks, I owe you one.”  
Armin smiled. “No problem.” Marco turned to walk to Sherzer, which was not only the place he’d first met Jean, but also the place where Jean’s first final would be, but paused when Armin grabbed his sleeve. “Hey...Take me with you.”  
Marco swallowed hard. “Uh...Why?”  
“I want to know what this is about. Unless he needed them for some kind of still life, which I kind of doubt at this hour on the morning of a final, I don’t really see Jean as the flowers type of guy. Something went wrong, right? And you’re trying to fix it?” The look in his roommate's eyes told Marco that he knew that he was right, and the questions were only for show. After a moment, Marco deflated and conceded, figuring he owed it to Armin anyhow, after asking him to abuse his all access keycard.  
“Fair warning, we might have to wait a little while.”  
“That’s fine.”  
It turned out that a little while was about twenty minutes of sitting on the stone bench outside of the art building, trying not to doze off, despite the chilly April air. Marco was only alert again when Armin shook his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see his boyfriend, if he still dared to call him that, standing in front of him, latte in one hand and sketchbook in the other.  
“The hell are you doing here?” He asked coolly, but didn’t walk away. Marco shot to his feet.  
“Well I-” Armin shoved him back down with a strength that Marco hadn’t known he possessed as he himself stood up, facing Jean.  
“Hi! My friend is an idiot, but please look out for him.” Armin said quickly, his nerves showing through even though he was obviously trying to stay calm. After another moment, he went on. “I don’t know what happened and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t fix it if I did, but he’s a well meaning person but also, as I said, an idiot. Th-that’s all.” Armin nodded at Jean and then hurried away, leaving the two others in awkward silence, Marco still sitting and Jean still standing. Eventually, Jean sat down next to Marco at a distance. Marco didn’t move to close it.  
“I um...I got you these.” Marco stammered, holding out the flowers. Now that they were in the light he saw that most of them were wilted and brown and for a second he wanted to take them back, but Jean had already taken them and was examining them.  
“Where did you get these?”  
“Well um...A-Armin works the EAS shift sometimes s-so his card can open the greenhouse.”  
“Oh.” Jean stared at the flowers as though they held all the answers to his current problems, then he took one of the less wilted ones and tucked it behind Marco’s ear. Marco stared at him blankly for a moment, and then remembered the box on his lap.  
“Oh! I also got you a new pair of sneakers. B-because of...You know...The pond.” He held them out, hoping Jean would like them. Jean took the box and opened it slowly, moving aside the tissue paper. And he smiled. The first time Marco had seen him smile since his parents coming.  
“Thank you. I like them a lot.”  
“Oh! Oh great yeah that’s awesome I was really worried I wouldn't grab a good pair and then there was the sizing and all-” He knew he was rambling and was almost glad when Jean cut him off.  
“This doesn’t make everything better you know.” Jean said bluntly, closing the box and looking at Marco, pain etched all over his tired face.  
“I...I know that. I just...Wanted to make it at least a little okay.” They sat in silence as the sun rose and birds began chirping quietly. The whole campus was coming alive with the hustle and bustle of student life, and Marco was glad Jean always went to class early, so that they had this time to watch the world wake up together. It felt wrong to break that moment, but Marco had to know. “How are...Things with your parents.” He couldn't even blame Jean for not answering right away. He gave him his time.  
“They’re not letting me back.” Jean said at length. “They said move out but pretty much...They’ve got most of my stuff but they said I can’t come get it, and I can’t move in for the summer because I refused to break up with you.”  
“That’s...That’s awful I’m so sorry Jean I- What.” Marco had placed his hand on Jean’s, and hadn’t meant to tense up but did anyhow. “You...You did?” Jean nodded, but didn’t say anything. Marco didn’t feel like he should either, instead hugging Jean’s arm and scooting closer, laying his head against his shoulder. He didn’t know what he would say even if he felt like he could talk, even if he felt like he had even the slightest claim to lay to Jean’s time. Finally, Jean moved to stand up, giving a pained smile at Marco.  
“I have to get to class, then I’ll be talking to the administration office about summer housing options.” The student looked down, scuffing the toe of his water logged sneaker. It really did look awful, and Marco couldn’t imagine they’d smell good, no matter how much time went into drying them. “Hey.” Marco looked up from his boyfriend’s shoe, eyebrows raised. “It’s all gonna work out, okay?” The boy barked out a laugh, but it didn’t sound amused, or easy. “Now I don’t have to go around their backs about changing my major, right?” Marco tried valiantly for a laugh, but didn’t quite make it. Jean gave another strained smile and ruffled his hair, careful not to knock the flower off. “Thanks. For the sneakers and the flowers. We’ll be okay.” With a wave, Jean headed into Sherzer, leaving Marco feeling relieved, but far more guilty than before.  
Marco remained on the bench, swinging his legs as he thought about what to do. His head was spinning with a combination of nerves, fatigue, and shame, fueled by an unhealthy Starbucks coffee habit. In the end, there was only one thing he could think of, and it wasn’t even help he had to offer. He pulled out his phone.  
_Compose group text:_  
_Hey mom and dad I’m about to start an exam and I know this is a big thing to ask in the morning but…_  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“No fricking way.” Jean said, pressing closer under Marco’s umbrella. It was the student’s last SEEUS shift of the semester, and it was a rainy one. Technically, Jean wasn’t supposed to be hanging out with him for the entire shift, but the supervisors were pretty relaxed and Eren was chanting the muscles of the body under his breath while doing a dance that vaguely resembled the Macarena, so Marco figured it was okay. He nodded excitedly, beaming.  
“Yes fricking way, they said you could move in with us for the summer! As long as you help with the chores around the house and make breakfast everyday they won’t charge you rent.” Marco felt a surge of affection for his parents as he delivered the good news, but it was quickly shadowed by the memory of Jean’s own experience. “Are you...Going to be able to afford tuition next semester?” Marco hated to ask, but he had to know. Jean had said from the outset that funds were a reason he couldn’t come out to his parents. Apparently, even the daunting question couldn’t knock the smile from Jean’s lips.  
“Yeah I’ll be alright. I got a nice online internship at a design agency, did you know online internships were a thing? And I can get a part time for the weekends near your house. That, with my scholarship, should be-” The wind suddenly picked up, blasting the three students with icy cold water. Eren seemed unaffected as he absently poked his Rectus Femoris. Marco huddled closer to Jean, angling the umbrella better. He looked at Jean, silently telling him to continue speaking. “-should be alright.” Jean smiled again. After a time, he looked away, and Marco barely caught the sound of his sigh over the rain beating down on his umbrella. Marco reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. He wasn’t going to apologize again; he knew it was only getting on Jean’s nerves. He wasn’t going to tell him everything would be okay; his words would just be hollow. So he just stood next to him.  
“Your new sneakers are getting all wet.” He said eventually. Jean chuckled.  
“Yeah. You’re right.” Jean squeezed his hand back. “But it’s not the first time my shoes have gotten soaked when I’m with you.” He turned and smiled, and Marco smiled back.  
Somehow, everything was going to be alright.


End file.
